Mim and Jon: The Key to Egypt
by King Of Anime
Summary: Miriam Possible has reunited with her long time partner Jonathan Stoppable to obtain an ancient artifact for an eccentric millionaire. However, not all is as it seems and with danger lurking around every corner, what will Mim and Jon uncover and how will they survive? (Part one of a two part story).


**Chapter One**

**An Offer**

"Here's something KP," said Ron.

Kim looked up from her work to see Ron holding an absolutely ugly vase. It was three different shades of brown and was so horrid that she wanted to grab it and throw it out the nearest window.

"I hate to be mean Ron, but that has got to be one of the ugliest things I've ever seen. I know it's been in your family for years, but that thing is a crime against good home design."

"Very funny, Kim," Ron scoffed. "Do you think we can sell it?"

Kim smiled at her boyfriend. "With your brilliant selling skills you can sell ice to an Eskimo. Someone will take, I'm sure."

Rufus squeaked in agreement as he scurried across the floor, looking for anything worthwhile.

Kim and Ron were in the middle of cleaning for their parent's rummage sale during their spring break from college. They had already stripped Kim's house of any old junk and were in the process of looking through Ron's house. So far they had only found a handful of worthwhile items, including the ugly vase, but they still had a huge pile to sift through in the garage.

When Ron opened the garage door, the pile of miscellaneous items, which were being supported by the door, fell on top of him, burying him alive and causing Kim and Rufus to bend over in laughter.

As they continued to weed through the pile Ron suddenly noticed something sticking out. It was small and looked like a book. It was bound in leather and had noticeable age and wear to it.

"Hey, Kim. You won't believe what I just found," he said as he pulled out the book, realizing what it was.

"What is it?" Kim asked, putting down a broken lamp.

"It's Jonathan Stoppable's journal!" Ron exclaimed. "I lost it after I found out it was holding up our kitchen table. Dad must've put it in here."

"Are you sure about that Ron? I thought Jonathan's journal was bigger then that and it's a darker color," Kim observed.

Ron scanned the first page and his eyes opened in shock. "Kim, this is another one of Jonathan's journals. The dates are a couple years after Miriam Possible left Middleton. Wanna read it?"

Kim smiled at Ron's child-like giddiness. He was practically foaming at the mouth to open it up. "Absolutely." They had been working for a several hours and any excuse for a break was welcomed. However, she too was intrigued at what could be in that book.

Ron's parents were out with Hana doing some errands, so they had the whole house to themselves for a while.

After getting some refreshments and wiping away any excess sweat, they went into Ron's room and sat on his bed. Kim snuggled up close to him, burying her head into that special nook on his shoulder.

Rufus found an excellent spot on Ron's other shoulder and immediately began nibbling on some sliced cheese.

Ron opened the old, weathered journal and read the date out loud before starting.

* * *

**March 12, 1927 7:25pm**

Miriam Possible sighed as she fell onto the soft bed. The floral pattern on the sheets weren't really her style, but she wasn't complaining. The last four places she slept were nowhere this nice. Rotten wallpaper, cockroaches crawling on the ceiling, no locks on the doors. This was a definite step up.

The room was warm, had running water, a radio, and the space almost seemed too big as the only luggage she had was one small suitcase.

She was happy to be back in America and in New York City after being away for four years. She had been around the world reporting in Asia, Europe, and South America for big newspapers under assumed names or simply letting another reporter's name take the credit, as long as she got the monetary credit from it.

It may have sounded like a nice, long vacation, but Mim was a criminal. She had been on the run since she was blamed for the theft of the Electrostatic Illuminator. She had been trying to clear her name, but had yet to find any evidence to prove her innocence.

She had been making ends meet thanks to her secret reporting. She had some friends in the journalistic industry who believed her innocence and were willing to help her in anyway they could.

Constable Barkin was very sure of her guilt and was willing to do just about anything to see she met justice.

For the first few months of her time on the run, life was easy. Barkin had many allies in the police force around the world, but she was cunning and managed to always remain one step ahead of the law. However he then went to drastic, and desperate, measures when he issued a reward of $25,000 for her capture.

Mim didn't know if he did this intentionally or because of his own stupidity, but he failed to mention to bring her in alive. At first most of the small time bounty hunters she encountered could do little except get beat up by a young woman who knew several forms of martial arts, but when they realized that she was no easy mark, they decided that bringing her in alive was too much of a hassle.

The reason she fled America was in the vain hope that maybe she could get some of the heat, and bullets, off of her. Unfortunately bounty hunters weren't an American only profession.

That was basically Mim's life for the last three years. Jumping from country to country and trying not to get killed.

She was back in America, hoping to lay low for a while after narrowly escaping the horde. They hadn't caught wind of her for a few weeks now. A record in her book, but she wasn't going to rest on her good luck. She had to move on.

The manager at the Plaza Hotel was a good friend of hers and was very gracious to let her have one of the suites, as long as it was close to escape routes and that she would not be disturbed. She had done a piece on his hotel a few years back and his sales jumped up considerably because of it. He was so grateful that he said she would always have a room there, no matter what and at no cost.

Mim sat up from the bed and pulled out three guns from her suitcase. She had become paranoid to the point that she always cleaned her guns to make sure they were ready in case any thugs attempted to try their fortunes.

Her Colt peacemaker was given to her by her father when she was a child and was one of her most reliable tools. Her second gun was a more modern M1911. She wasn't a fan of the newer guns and felt that they lacked the reliability, style and charm of her old revolver, but it was a great backup in case her revolver couldn't do the job. Her third and final gun was a small pocket pistol that she always kept hidden on her person. It wasn't a man stopper, but it got her point across.

As she began disassembling her M1911, she recalled a funny moment when Jon tried the gun out and nearly lost a finger. He always liked the new toys the police force got. He had been given two from the department, but he gave her one. He always looked out for her.

Mim stopped cleaning as her mind wandered to him.

_Jon, has it really been that long?_

Mim had attempted to write to him and was successful for the first months of her life on the lamb, managing to get a few postcards and even a letter or two out, but after the bounty hunters became more dangerous, she realized that talking to Jon was too dangerous. They would surely try to use him as a hostage or threaten to hurt him if she didn't give herself up and the last thing she wanted was to ruin her best friend's life or get him killed.

It hurt her immensely, but before leaving for Europe she wrote him a letter saying she was never going to speak to him again and that he should forget her. She hated sounding like a heartless monster, but she wanted Jon to live a normal life. She would only muck it up for him.

The memory made her chest ache and she got up to open a window and get some air. Knocks at the door made her jump a little as she quickly closed the window. She asked not to be disturbed, so it couldn't be the maids or room service.

Mim quietly tip toed to the door, her Colt in hand, cocked, and ready. She looked through the peephole and saw two large men in black suits looking back at her. One had dark brown hair and looked to be in his mid-twenties. His smirk made her feel uneasy. His companion had slicked back red hair and his face showed sternness that one would usually see on someone in the military.

They didn't look like bounty hunters, but she wasn't about to open the door and try her luck. She stared at them, waiting for them to give up and leave.

"Miss Possible, we know you're in there," the dark-haired man said. "We're not bounty hunters or government agents and we're not here to hurt you."

Mim was skeptical, but realized that they weren't going to leave, as the man continued to talk through the door.

She sighed and slowly opened the door, keeping the chain on and putting the barrel of the gun against the door, aimed at the man's chest.

"Hello Miss Possible. I'm Henry Sinclair and this is my associate, Sam Winters." He flashed her a grin that just made Mim's skin crawl. It was the kind of smile that someone would give you while they stabbed you in the back.

She continued to glare at him in silence.

He coughed nervously. "We've been sent by our employer. Do you know of Mr. Ryan Andrews?"

"Big time entrepreneur. Has his hand in dozens of big businesses and is considered a recluse. Lives in the outskirts of New York," Mim replied in her best reporter tone.

"Well, Mr. Andrews wishes to meet you. He has a proposition for you that he promises will be worth your while," said Sinclair.

"Please tell Mr. Andrews that I appreciate the gesture, but I'm afraid I have very pressing matters I must attend to."

Sinclair chuckled. "Like bounty hunters?"

Mim frowned. "Goodbye, Mr. Sinclair." Mim slammed the door, hoping she hit him square in the face.

On the other side of the door she heard him reply, "Mr. Andrews also wanted us to let you know that Jonathan Stoppable was doing just fine in Middleton."

Sinclair's tone had a sinister edge to it. Mim practically ripped the door open and put the barrel of her gun under his chin. She was almost compelled to shoot him, but she attempted to remain calm, though her anger was near boiling.

Sinclair's partner attempted to reach into his jacket, but Sinclair's hand motioned for him to stand down.

"What have you done to Jon?" she demanded through gritted teeth.

"He is fine, but you really must speak with Mr. Andrews. I'm only the messenger."

Mim narrowed her eyes, realizing she had no choice. "Give me five minutes."

"Very good, Miss Possible. Oh, and you can leave your gun in the room. You won't be needing it," Henry said, back to his overly cheery voice after she released him.

"Drop dead," Mim replied.

Sinclair just smiled as she slammed the door again.

As Mim got changed, she wondered what this was about. Did they really have Jon? Was he safe? Had her worst fears finally been realized?

The whole thing sounded fishy, but her insatiable curiosity was coming out. As was her feelings for Jon. However she was too prideful to let her feelings slip. Jon was better off without her.

After changing into a simple blouse and a pair of pants, she got into her knee-high boots. She was about to put her pocket pistol in the special nook of her right boot, when she heard Sinclair through the door.

"You won't be needing any weapons, Miss Possible."

Kim instinctively looked around, expecting a spy to be hidden in her room. _Who were these people?_ Mim thought.

* * *

The ride to the mansion of Ryan Andrews took about an hour and a half and was in complete silence. Sinclair attempted to make small chit chat with Mim, but her piercing glare let on really quick that she was in no mood for banter.

Mim had to admit the ride was at least comfortable. The long, black custom made Rolls Royce was sleek and oozed money and prestige. Mim was starting to think that Andrews was trying to impress her.

Mim looked out the tinted window when Sinclair announced that they had arrived. The mansion was truly a sight to behold. It looked like it could easily hold 200 rooms, with a Victorian style to it. The front gate was huge and creaked loudly as it was pushed open by a servant.

As they stopped, Sinclair opened the door and offered his hand to Mim. Mim wasn't against being a female, but she wanted to show Sinclair that she was not some frail little girl. She got out and walked past him, without so much as looking at him.

The two men escorted her through the mansion, winding past several halls and servants until they stopped at two large wooden doors. Behind them was a lounge with an oversized fireplace. The flames flickered and made the dim room dance in shadows. The walls were adorned with large paintings and bookshelves that touched the ceiling and were filled to the brim with all sorts of eclectic titles. Now she knew Andrews was trying to impress her.

"Mr. Andrews will see you shortly. Please help yourself to some refreshments," said Sinclair, as he motioned to the mini bar.

Mim wanted to respect Prohibition, but not only was she technically a criminal, but she hadn't had a decent whiskey in months. However, she raised an eyebrow at Sinclair who sighed.

"Really Miss Possible, it's not poison. If we were going to kill you, don't you think we would have already done it?"

As Sinclair and Winters closed the doors behind them, Mim popped the top off a nice looking whiskey and poured it into a glass with some ice. She savored the taste, wishing Europe could make it this good.

For a few moments she glanced around, taking in her surroundings, as well as coming up with an escape plan, should the need arise and lately it had in her case. Unfortunately the room only had one entrance and it was located somewhere in the middle of the mansion, which made an easy getaway very difficult.

She glanced around for weapons, since she had no firearms and spotted a chair leg, a brass candlestick, and a small letter opener. They would do.

Mim heard the doors opened and turned, expecting to see Andrews. She nearly dropped her glass when she saw the face of her long time friend Jonathan Stoppable.

He looked older and more mature since she last saw him four years ago. His mutton chop mustache was replaced by a more traditional one that made him looked dignified and handsome. He was wearing a simple brown suit that made it seem like he was late for a party.

When Jon saw Mim his reaction equaled hers. They both ran at each other and embraced in a tight hug. Jon wanted to be sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Mim, are you okay?" Jon asked.

"Am I okay? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Mim responded in excitement.

"I'm fine I just arrived here a few hours ago. A couple guys in suits were at my front door in Middleton saying that you needed me. I rushed here as soon as I could."

Mim was beside herself. She didn't like being tricked and this made her really want to pummel Andrews' face in.

"I thought they were going to hurt you, Jon," Mim said, trying not to cry. "If that ever happened because of me, I…I."

Jon gave her a semi hard punch to the arm. She cried out more in annoyance than agony.

"Ow! What was that for?" Mim demanded, rubbing her arm.

"That was for being so stubborn and disappearing for three years. I was worried sick about you Miriam Possible," replied Jon.

It had become a tradition of theirs that if either of them thought or did something stupid, the other would give them a friendly punch to the arm to let them know. Mim knew this one was coming, but she still didn't like it.

"I'm sorry Jon. Really I am. I didn't want you getting hurt because of me. I've already done enough damage to your life and reputation. Barkin has probably been on your case since," said Mim.

Jon rubbed his face, a clear sign of his guilt. "Well, I may have quit my job after you left."

"What?" Mim returned the punch, making Jon cry out. "Why would you do something like that Jon?"

"I wanted to help you Mim. I started my own private investigation office and tracked down every lead I could that may get your name cleared. You're my best friend, Mim, and my partner. I'm not abandoning you. No matter what I'm sticking by your side."

"Jon…" Jon grinned at her in that special way that made her always feel better. She embraced him again, glad to see that the team was back together. "I'm sorry for making you worry, Jon. It was selfish of me."

"I'm just glad you're okay, MP."

Jon's nickname for her made her heart skip a beat.

Jon wanted so badly to tell Mim how he really felt, but even after seeing her again, he still felt that he wasn't good enough for her. She had survived without him for years and he was just some normal looking guy. Surely she met someone while on the run. Someone ten times as handsome and cool as him. He surely wasn't a match for Miriam Possible.

The front doors opened again and a man in his thirties stepped in. Mim could already tell it was Ryan Andrews. He wore a nice blue suit, with polished shoes. His slick, blond hair and tight face made him look very attractive and mischievous.

"I see you two have gotten reacquainted. Please." He motioned to the large, plush leather chairs by the fireplace.

"We don't appreciate being tricked into coming Mr. Andrews," Mim said, as she sat next to Jon.

"I do apologize. I explained to Sinclair that I wanted to bring you two here, but to be courteous about the whole thing. I see I'll have to have a talk with him," he replied.

Mim and Jon glanced at each other, both thinking the same thing. He was lying through his teeth. It was nice for Mim to see that they hadn't lost their touch with each other. They could almost always read their faces and understand what the other was thinking.

Mim smiled at him. She missed this.

"So what's all this about Mr. Andrews?' Jon asked.

"Straight to the point I see. I like that. I knew you two wouldn't let me down."

Mim and Jon didn't look impressed or happy.

"Ahem. As you both are well aware, I am sort of an eccentric millionaire. I like to have expensive and rare things. I currently am funding an excavation of a newly discovered tomb in Egypt. It belongs to one of the earliest pharaohs in history. In that tomb there is a certain artifact, which I would very much like to have. A ring, worn by the pharaoh, called the Key to Egypt."

"What does this have to do with us?" Jon inquired.

Andrews smiled. "The ring is protected by a series of booby traps that none of my excavation team are willing to touch. I would like you two to go to the tomb, get through the traps, get the ring, and bring it back to me safely."

Jon raised his eyebrows. "Why us? Seems like a very dangerous and unnecessary risk."

Mim nodded in firm agreement. "Do you think the two of us are expendable trash?"

"Not at all," he retorted in a nonchalant tone, "I've been an admirer of yours for many years. I have followed you two on your cases and I know you two are the best ones for the job. Besides, even if there weren't any traps, I would still have you two retrieve the ring. Egypt is such a inhospitable place and there are thieves and murderers around every corner."

Mim had been to Egypt several times and while she agreed that it wasn't the safest place in the world, it was hardly the devil's den.

"I'd be willing to compensate you two for your troubles. How does a hundred thousand dollars each sound?"

Mim was unfazed, even though she could use the money to make life a little easier for her. She glanced at Jon, whose face showed shock and consideration.

She realized that his p.i. business might not be paying the bills and a hundred thousand dollars would certainly help him out. She recalled how he always had dreams of being even semi rich and this was his chance, but she also knew Jon and she knew in a heartbeat that he would turn the offer down.

She was right.

"You can't buy us off, Mr Andrews. We aren't mercenaries or hired goons. Come on Mim."

Jon offered his hand, which she gladly took. That was her Jon.

As they started for the door Andrews sat up and walked towards the mini bar.

"How would you like to go home, Miss Possible? And not in irons or in a coffin?"

They stopped and turned to him.

"What do you mean?" Mim inquired.

"I have many powerful allies in business and politics. If you do this one task for me then all I have to do is make one phone call and you are a free woman. Able to do whatever you want without risk of jail time of a bounty hunter's bullet."

Mim wanted nothing to do with this. The whole thing smelled rotten, but the prospect of going back home to her family. To Jon.

She could see Jon's mind was already made up. It only took her a second longer to make up hers.

"What guarantee do we have that you can deliver?" Jon questioned.

Andrews picked up the phone that was sitting on the table and casually dialed. After a few seconds, he said, "Hello Mr. President, it's Andrew's how are you?"

Jon and Mim were stunned and could only look on in shock as he continued his casual conversation to the President of the United States.

"Ah, glad to hear everything's working out. I have a friend here who is just dying to say hello. He's a former police officer from Middleton. Mr. Jonathan Stoppable. Yes, that Stoppable."

He motioned to Jon who took the phone. "Uh, hello? Oh, hello Mr. President!"

Andrews walked over to Mim.

His presence sent shivers down her spine and she felt uneasy being around him.

"I trust this is enough of a guarantee for you?"

"When do we leave?" Mim asked.

"My private plane is waiting right now to take you to Cairo. From there a boat will take you down the river to a small village. Some of the tomb workers will be there and will guide you through the desert to the tomb and then you and Mr. Stoppable can tackle the tomb's traps and bring me back the ring," he replied.

"Alright," Mim said. Her voice oozed disdain.

Her reporter's senses were telling her something was up, but for now she and Jon would have to play along. As she watched Jon finish his conversation and hang up, he practically skipped towards her, his face full of excitement.

"Mim! President Coolidge wants me to come by sometime for dinner! Can you believe it?"

Mim grinned at him. "Come on Jon, we have a plane to catch."

She took his hand, holding it firmly. She glanced over her shoulder as Andrews simply smiled, but beneath that smile Mim could swear she saw something more. Something very wrong.

To Be Continued.

This is the start of a new story, which is one part of a two-part story. The first part will deal with Mim and Jon, while the second part will focus on Ron and Kim. For those who are reading my **One Size Doesn't Fit All** story, I am still writing up the next chapter and I hope to put it out in the next few weeks. Until then, please enjoy and please review!

KingOAnime.


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